


Delirium

by theblindtorpedo



Category: Spirou et Fantasio
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Fantasio's brain goes 120kmh in a 25kmh area (their bed), Insecurity, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot, Relationship Study, Spirou is probably just thinking abt having breakfast soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblindtorpedo/pseuds/theblindtorpedo
Summary: In a day, an hour, a minute the crystal house he lives in could shatter and he would be left with nothing but bleeding wounds.
Relationships: Fantasio/Spirou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> pretty bold of me to write a fic that takes place entirely in Fantasio's head considering I've only read like 3 albums

It is morning, they are still in bed, and once again Fantasio is caught in a conundrum of desire. The lines of the battle-field are well trodden, he has gazed upon this view countless times, always the same deliberations and still the outcome he will choose is uncertain. His future self is perilously unpredictable. That bastard.

Spirou is awake, torso inclined so his head is cradled in one hand, artfully ruffled hair hanging down to sway in front of his left eye, a teasing curtain. He appears oblivious to his partner’s distress, leans in now, reaching to claim an embrace as if by the divine right of kings, and here is the crux: for to Fantasio the choice between sight and touch cleaves his nerves into splinters, so overwhelmed is he by these precious moments.

At the beginning, he had been triumphant and anxiety was expected, easily overridden by confidence that he would with practice become accustomed to having Spirou as his lover. For a glorious moment his braggadocio was validated: he was the cat who got the cream. Yet here they were six months later and still his own happiness fills him with dread. To taste sweet and bitter simultaneously makes him sick. This magical thing he has captured, what he tries to convince himself he deserves, It is never enough. Each facet of who Spirou is, what they are, is unsatisfactory when he wants to bend the laws of physics to have more, more, experience it all and fill himself with Spirou so totally that he cannot feel the fear that any moment could be the last. In a day, an hour, a minute, the crystal house he lives in could shatter and he would be left with nothing but bleeding wounds. Any moment could be the moment before Spirou decides to leave, before Fantasio makes one horrendous blunder, or simply before one speeding car catches them unawares. Either way the outcome is the same. it would be over. He has to decide if Spirou’s eyes or Spirou’s lips are the last thing he wants.

Today he pulls away, but grips at Spirou’s upper arm with his hand not tucked under the pillow, so the young man knows he is still wanted, and dear god isn’t that an insufficient word for what he feels, when he needs Spirou as much as he needs water.

“You’re cute when you’re like this,” Spirou says.

“Like what?”

“Sleepy. Sort of confused looking.”

“I’m-” Fantasio starts, but does not continue. He is fully awake, but will not correct Spirou, not if it means exposing what goes on in his head. Fantasio is not certain, but peeling back his skin to show the roiling mess of emotions inside, now that would be awfully close to the Big Mistake.

He knows Spirou has feelings, but his lover is honest with such ease, letting words of affection fly like rice at a wedding, so that Fantasio cannot imagine explaining himself in any comprehensible way. He might as well be speaking a different language. Spirou wants him to try, Fantasio notices it in the way his lover watches him while he cooks (when he thinks Fantasio isn’t paying attention). Spirou leans over the counter, inspects him with almost a scowl of concentration, as if Fantasio is an impertinent riddle he must solve. Fantasio refuses to be an actor in that drama. He’s played it out enough in his mind: he’d speak his part and Spirou would stroke his cheek and call him a hopeless worrywort and nothing would change.

Now, with Spirou still looking at him with scalding fondness, he must make a decision.

He wants to say: “I love you too much,”

Instead he says: “I want to kiss you.”

“I know,” Spirou laughs and obliges, pulling Fantasio towards him, and isn’t that how it always has been? Always will be. Spirou beckons and he follows.

Fantasio is burning to death.

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing for this fandom hope it was ok!!! Comments and kudos always appreciated, and they're always encouragement to write more. :3
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](www.augustinremi.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](www.twitter.com/seccotines).


End file.
